En.Citatepedia^®.ro

On the March

So the time seems come at last,
And the drums go rolling past,
And above them in the sunlight Labour's banners float and flow;
They are marching with the sun,
But I look in vain for one
Of the men who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago.

They were men who did the work
Out at Blackall, Hay, and Bourke –
They were men who fought the battle that the world shall never know;
And they vanished one by one
When their bitter task was done –
Men who worked and wrote for freedom more than fifteen years ago.

Some are scattered, some are dead,
By the shanty and the shed,
In the lignum and the mulga, by the river running low;
And I often wish in vain
I could call them back again –
Mates of mine who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago.

From the country of their birth
Some have sailed and proved their worth;
Some have died on distant deserts, some have perished in the snow.
Some are gloomy, bitter men,
And I meet them now and then –
Men who'd give their lives for Labour more than fifteen years ago.

Oh, the drums come back to me,
And they beat for victory,
But my heart is scarcely quickened, and I never feel the glow;
For I've learnt the world since then,
And the hopelessness of men,
And the fire it burnt too fiercely more than fifteen years ago.

Lucky you who still are young,
When the rebel war-hymn's sung,
And the sons of slaves are marching with their faces all aglow,
When the revolution comes
And the blood is on the drums –
Oh! I wish the storm had found me more than fifteen years ago!

Bear the olden banner still!
Let the nations fight who will!
'Tis the flag of generations – the flag that all the peoples know;
And they'll bear it, brave and red,
Over ancient rebel dead,
In the future to the finish as a thousand years ago!

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Missing Finger

You left us with ten fingers and,
Came back with nine fingers;
What really went wrong?
Fifteen years away from home,
We are yet to know what really went wrong;
Fifteen years away to make some money,
What really went wrong with your missing finger?
You made enough money and thought that,
You were richer than the President;
Today, you've returned home poorer than before!

There is time for everything,
A time to gain and a time to lose;
What really went wrong?
From a flight to your plight,
Who will help you now?
Fifteen years awayto make some money,
But today you can't even eat well at home;
From a flight to your plight,
Today you can't even sleep well at home;
Fifteen years away to make some money,
The very colours of the rainbow with a view;
You left us with ten fingers and,
Came back home with nine fingers;
What really went wrong?

From a flight to your plight,
Fifteen years away to make some money;
From the land of red, gold and green! !
From a flight to a plight,
It's all part of a lesson;
You are now at home at last.

The President was at the stadium but,
Where were you?
It is better to be humble than to boast.
Flight, sight, might, bright, tight, light;
You're poorer than fifteen years ago!
Bite, kite, height, fight, eight, plight;
You're poorer than fifteen years ago!
Quiet, rite, white, night, site, write;
You're poorer than fifteen years ago!
Today, the President is better off than you.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Warmth Again

Icy heart
Warm heart.
The icy-hearted person feels nothing,
The warm-hearted person feels too much.
And most of the time, that person doesn't want to feel anymore.

I've an ice-cold heart, but I'm warm-hearted.
Why do I feel so cold?
I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?

Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel warm again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't someone warm me up again?

Fifteen.
Back problems, foot problems, heart problems and more!
Asthma problems, leg problems, chest pain galore!
Help me out of this wreck of a body, kind sir...
Help me out of this wreck of a body, kind
Sir!

I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?

Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel young again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Can you make me feel myself again?

Dear Great One, please help me
Down here on Earth, sitting here I wait
to feel like myself again.

I've an ice-cold heart, but I'm warm-hearted.
Why do I feel so cold?
I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?

Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel warm again?
Why can't I feel young again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't someone warm me up again?
Can you make me myself again?

Maybe someday...I'll feel myself again.

poem by Raven Lightner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Girl of Fifteen

Girl of fifteen,
I see you each morning from my window
As you pass on your way to school.
I do more than see, I watch you.
I furtively draw the curtain aside.
And my heart leaps through my eyes
And follows you down the street;
Leaving me behind, half-hid
And wholly ashamed.

What holds me back,
Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed,
But my forty years beyond your fifteen?
Girl of fifteen, as you pass
There passes, too, a lightning flash of time
In which you lift those forty summers off my head,
And take those forty winters out of my heart.

poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Idea

I been thinking sitting on a pole.
I'm getting sick of doing what I'm told.
Just me and the mirror and my brain.
But that was when I got an idea.
Came like a gun and shot in my ear.
Don't you think it's time you got up and stood alone?

Fifteen years I lay down on the ground.
I couldn't feel any noise or hear any sound.
Fifteen million years I spent down the line.
But that was when I got an idea.
Came like a gun and shot in my ear.
Don't you think it's time you got up and stood alone?
Get up and stand alone

music

That was when I got an idea.
Came like a gun and shot in my ear.
Don't you think it's time you got up and stood alone?
Get up and stand alone.

That's when I got an idea (repeat and fade out)

song performed by by Bee Gees from Idea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I lived with them in my studio in New York. And of course if I were doing that book today or even ten years, fifteen years later, I would have gone to where the wild ducks were and where I could study them - I would have gone to the country somewhere.

quote by Robert McCloskey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

For Paul Blackburn

They set you up
to throw away the key
They said,
you tried to kill a kid

They said,
someone had to pay the price
So they took twentyfive years of your life

Put you in with,
Murderers and peadophiles
Couldn't they see
These wasn't your kind

The pain and the nightmares
that never fade
The feeling of distrust
The feeling of disgust
The feeling of shame
at a world that could do this

You was fifteen and alone
no family no friends
Just a baby in a lonely world

They took your childhood
when the door went bang

Twentyfive years of fighting
for your freedom as a man
You are now free
an innocent man

It's now time for them
to pay the price
Give you back your life
Let the world see the lies

poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Reel Around The Fountain

It's time the tale was told
of how you took a child
and you made him old
Reel around the fountain
slap me on the patio
I'll take it now
Fifteen minutes with you
well, I wouldn't say no
people said that you were virtually dead
and they were so wrong
fifteen minutes with you
well, i wouldn't say no
people said that you were easily led
and they were half-right
I dreamt about you last night
and i fell out of bed twice
you can pin and mount me like a butterfly
but take me to the haven of your bed
was something that you never said
two lumps, please
you're the bee's knees
but so am I
Meet me at the fountain
shove me on the patio
I'll take it slowly
Fifteen minutes with you
oh I wouldn't say no
people see no worth in you
oh but I do

song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

65 Years of Freedom

65 years of freedom
of speech of democracy
of truth of non-violence
65 years of freedom
of births of deaths
of gains of debts
65 years of freedom
of bonds of relations
of boundaries of neighbors
65 years of freedom
of terrors and frights
of attacks and fights
65 years of freedom
still a slave still in chains.

poem by Prita Srini
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Knock over

I feel embarrassed.
I have sailed almost fifteen years
but I never had a nostalgia as today.
If I can borrow a pair of old wings
from a friendly bird,
I promise you to give whatever you want.
I just want to fly home and come back
definitely I'll return your wings.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Of course, nobody would deny the importance of human beings for theological thinking, but the time span of history that theologians think about is a few thousand years of human culture rather than the fifteen billion years of the history of the universe.

quote by John Polkinghorne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Thrush In The Fairycastle

In the fairy castle in the back,
A pair of thrushes dwelt.
For wondrous songs I did not lack,
The most beauteous, heartfelt.

Peeking inside of their domain,
You'd see the passing of the years.
You'd see nests if your neck you'd crane,
There they could nestle without fear.

Ever higher the levels went,
As the fairy castle grew in age.
And it seemed as their fledgelings out they sent,
The fairy castle turned a page.

Then just last week I saw one morn,
A single solitary thrush.
Singing on the fairy castle lost and forlorn,
I felt his songs my heart would crush.

All day all night he sang away,
But it was all for naught.
And there I see him everyday,
Lost is the one he sought.

It breaks my heart, to see him so,
His heart like mine is torn in two.
His songs all day and night do flow,
I wish I knew what to do.

They were my companions for so many years,
When I left, they remained.
They sang to me through joy and tears,
Through sunshine, and through rain.

He never wanders very far,
For the fairy castle is his home.
And he sings away at the sun and stars,
But now he sings alone.

The Fairycastle was planted in my backyard,
About fifteen years ago. It is a member of the,
Genus, Night Blooming Cereus, and it,
Is about twelve to fifteen feet high, and extremely thorny.

3/1/12 Alton Texas

poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Knife Man

Knife Man
I see most days the thin man who always carries a document map
that appears as slim as him. He has a distant look in his face like he
lives in a world of his own, and we pass each other like shadows in
the night. I have often thought of speaking to him, but I remember
fifteen years when his left him he went quite insane, when she came
out of a shop he stabbed her several with hunting knife till she died.
Sent to an asylum he was after five years declared sane and released,
so it is better to leave him well alone, one never knows he might be
armed with a new shining hunting knife bought at the gypsy market,
just waiting to feel slighted so he can use the knife again.

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Nellie Clark

I was only eight years old;
And before I grew up and knew what it meant
I had no words for it, except
That I was frightened and told my Mother;
And that my Father got a pistol
And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy,
Fifteen years old, except for his Mother.
Nevertheless the story clung to me.
But the man who married me, a widower of thirty-five,
Was a newcomer and never heard it
Till two years after we were married.
Then he considered himself cheated,
And the village agreed that I was not really a virgin.
Well, he deserted me, and I died
The following winter.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

1926

The porchlight coming on again,
Early November, the dead leaves
Raked in piles, the wicker swing
Creaking. Across the lots
A phonograph is playing Ja-Da.

An orange moon. I see the lives
Of neighbors, mapped and marred
Like all the wars ahead, and R.
Insane, B. with his throat cut,
Fifteen years from now, in Omaha.

I did not know them then.
My airedale scratches at the door.
And I am back from seeing Milton Sills
And Doris Kenyon. Twelve years old.
The porchlight coming on again.

poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A revolution only lasts fifteen years, a period which coincides with the effectiveness of a generation.

quote by Jose Ortega y Gasset
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

We must, however, note that what are usually called the high religions made their appearance within about twenty-five hundred years - most of them within fifteen hundred years.

quote by Kenneth Scott Latourette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

There is much that science doesn't understand, many mysteries still to be resolved. In a Universe tens of billions of light-years across and some ten or fifteen billion years old, this may be the case forever. We are constantly stumbling on new surprises.

Carl Sagan in The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

When the Irish Flag Went By

’Twas Eight-Hour Day, and proudly
Old Labour led the way;
The drums were bearing loudly,
The crowded streets were gay;
But something touched my heart like pain,
I could not check the sigh
That rose within my bosom when
The Irish Flag went by.

Bright flags were raised about it
And one of them my own:
And patriots trod beneath it—
But it seemed all alone.
I thought of ruined Ireland
While crystals from the sky
Fell soft like tears by angels shed,
As the Irish Flag went by.

I love the dark green standard
As Irish patriots do;
It waves above the rebels,
And I’m a rebel too,
I thought of Ireland’s darkest years,
Her griefs that follow fast;
For drooping as ’twere drenched with tears
The Irish Flag went past.

And though ’twas not in Erin
That my forefathers trod;
And though my wandering footsteps
Ne’er pressed the “dear old sod”,
I felt the wrongs the Irish feel
Beneath the northern sky.
And felt the rebel in my heart
When the Irish Flag went by.

I tell you, men of England,
Who rule the land by might;
I tell you, Irish traitors
Who sell the sons of light,
The tyranny shall fail at last,
That changeful days are nigh;
And you shall dip your red flag yet,
When the Irish Flag goes by.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

For More Than Fifteen Years

For more than fifteen years he intensely hated life.
For more than fifteen years he intensely hated his parents.
He intensely hated his parents for giving him abuse hell life.
He intensely hated his parents for subjecting him to abuse hell life.
A hell life that no mortal child or man should suffer through live.
A hell life that he a mortal soul could but suffer through die live.
So much of the best of thee could not survive that broken bitter life.
Important parts of thee did not could not survive that broken bitter life.

Only love can restore renew those lost parts of thee.
Only love can restore renew that lost heart of thee.
So many of us are but puzzle pieces of men women we should be.
That is parents crime across generations unabated abuse misuse.
The circle of repetitive violence abuse can be is broken in thee.
You will set all your children and all their offspring free.

You will free generations unborn yet to be.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Kids

Written by jay kay and toby smith
Now were getting nasty
Everybody is talking about the kids
The kids have funky soul and groove emotion
But if you dont give the kids the chance to use it
Theyre always more than likely to abuse it
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Everybodys talking about the kids
And its taking time for you to realise
Now hunger turns to anger in your eyes
I say the revolution will be televised, yes it will gil...
Everybodys talking about the kids
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Kids get down underground, evrybody dance to the funky sound.
Everybodys talking about the kids
The kids need space to get their heads in place
And every day this world we have to face
Well I just cant seem to find my proper place
Kids get down, celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate
Everybodys talking about the kids
It wont be long before we get our own
And every kid can truly feel at home
I told ya you should give the dog a bone.
Kids get down, pressurized, to live the life that you devised
Kids get down, celebrate, life is to short to complicate
Everybodys talking about school
But I get more pleasure breaking all the rules
Cos lesson one begins with life is cruel
Well I guess Im just an educated fool
Everybodys talking about the kids
Mom and dad make efforts to excuse it
Government officials will confuse it
Members of the bench will try to prove it
Youre going down sucker!
Everybodys talking about the kids now
Everybodys talking about the kids now
The kids got funky soul
Everybodys talking about high
But kids get high to satisfy
For reaching out to touch the sky
Is all I can identify, and you know why...
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure
Kids get down celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate.

song performed by by Jamiroquai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!